


humanity

by riumairu (orphan_account)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Hands, Humanity, Shiratorizawa, Volleyball, and their story, and thinks about their meaning, as a person, legacy, no romantic stuff, ok so Washijou looks at everyones hands, sorry it’s just their, stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25103104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/riumairu
Summary: Everyone’s hands tell their own story.(OR, Washijou Tanji looks at the hands of the members in Shiratorizawa, and thinks about them; both as their individual personalities and stories, and them as a whole. A team. A family.)
Relationships: Shiratorizawa Academy Volleyball Club & Washijou Tanji
Comments: 10
Kudos: 64
Collections: Shiratorizawa Fanweek 2020





	humanity

**Author's Note:**

> hi so i managed to gush about shirabu in this fic so it’s unbalanced  
> uhhh it’s less about hands and more about everyone as characters ???

Ushijima’s hands are strong.

They are sturdy and large, like the trunk of an old oak tree, golden roots planted in the well treated soil underneath it. Large and firm, the fingers long and thick. Skilled from years of hard work, firm, and consistent. There isn’t any tape on his fingers; he takes care of them. Always making sure that his nails are well-trimmed, his palms moisturized. No signs of bruises or scars, no matter how many hours he uses them. 

His touch is firm, using his hands to give a pat on the back or shoulder. The few touches people get are simple, yet comforting, in an odd way. Like the warmth of the first rays of sunlight falling through teal-tinted windows, or a large oak tree beside you, the shade falling over you. 

They can be powerful, almost terrifyingly so; shown by the _whack_ of them hitting a volleyball to serve or to spike, blowing past all enemies. It strikes people with awe; seeing everything and everyone in front of him get blown away by sheer _power_. 

And yet, his touch can be gentle; soft, and quiet, like reading a book by yourself on your porch on a warm fall day, the leaves falling around you as you hum gently. Two sides of the same coin, in a way. Both options are so different, and yet so completely and utterly _Ushijima_. 

Powerful. Firm. They scream, _look at him, look at our captain and ace_ , but also showcase another side of him, one that not everyone sees. He is awkward, but earnest. Blunt. Passion in all that he touches. Human. 

He is not perfect; no, it is impossible for a human being to be _perfect_. But he is kind, he is hardworking, he is powerful. He helps everyone find worth in themselves, and they help him find the very same thing in himself. 

(A team does not consist of a singular person; it is because they are all there _together_ that makes them united. As a family.)

-

Tendou’s hands are strange. No, not quite… unique. 

Slim and fragile, his touch fluttering like the feathers of a bird on your arm. Bruised and scratched from many, many different things. Dragging his fingers against rocky walls, jamming something from blocking practice, a paper cut from when he was reading Shounen Jump. All the little things that have happened to shape his hands into what they are now.

He uses a lot of tape to make sure his fingers are safe; he is rather careless about what he does with his hands, often needing Semi or Reon to remind him to take care of himself. They are loose, flexible, and adapt to almost anything. 

His fingers are rather long. Pale and thin, delicate and yet, inevitably _there_. A certain presence to them, not unlike Tendou himself. 

Tendou’s touch varies. It can be gentle, fingers dancing around your arm, or straightforward, a sharp grip. Cheerful and loud, he uses his hands to convey his emotions. Bright. Lively; always moving, always there. 

He’s a loud one, Tendou. Tanji knows; he’s seen him bother Shirabu, complain about Kawanishi, argue with Semi. But he can be gentle. Kind, and understanding, if not a bit unconventional. A little wacky; energy waves dancing around the room, like you’re with your best friend at that night’s colorful rave. The scent of _life_ , the aura of pure, raw energy, of _humanity_. Tendou is a very interesting human, at his core. 

He is just a boy, a boy full of _humanity_ and hopes, living in his own paradise. A boy who wants everybody to be happy.

-

Reon’s hands are simple.

Thick and sturdy, a foundation for the team. He takes care of them, just as he does with everyone. Nails neatly trimmed, touch firm. Calming; like a mother’s hug. Warm and homely, nurturing. Always helping everyone around them, and keeping on top of his own workload as well. Like a grandfather; smiling down on everyone, laughter bright and warm and _familiar_. 

They are also strong; in this team, it is evident that everyone circles around Ushijima’s power or Tendou’s blocks, but no one is to be overlooked. That saying goes for Reon too; he is incredibly strong. Powerful. His spikes consistent from years of practice, his receives easily done. The result of hard work; like a farmer and his well nurtured crops.

Either way, it’s peaceful around him. Like you could fall asleep, entrust your life to him. His hands are always there if you need someone to hold. He is always there if you need someone to talk to. 

-

Semi’s hands are powerful, and yet swift. 

They are very obviously both an athlete’s and a musician’s hands, strong and elegant. They move quickly, dashing over the notes of an instrument, or pushing a volleyball into the movement of a perfect set. Always _there_ , not unlike Semi himself. Strong willed, honest, talented, hardworking. Such a strong presence that it _demands_ to be seen, demands to be noticed.

His hands are scarred; full of stories of him working himself to become better, to become stronger. Talent does not magically appear; each person has to _make_ it bloom; through hours and hours of hard work. He still keeps up with what he has to do to remain healthy; keeping his fingers safe, his palms moisturized. 

Semi’s touch is usually like the crackling of a fire when fresh wood has been thrown in; powerful and warm, washing over you and filling your chest with a sense of strength. It can also be soft and gentle; like cool watts of wind flowing through your hair, bringing you to earth, refreshing your mind.

There is no doubt, no doubt at all, in Tanji’s mind, that he is worth every bit of attention he gets. Being on the “sidelines” does not mean you are weak or have lost. Losing, in no way at all, mean that you have quit. 

-

Yamagata’s hands are thicker; the fingers are slightly shorter, but there is no clumsiness to be found in his form.

There is no doubt; he is elegant, his movements calculated and planned. He moves with experience, with an air of confidence. He knows that his instinct will not fail him, and neither will his gut. After all… he is Shiratorizawa’s Libero, a title that he truly deserves. His hands have the story of his gruelling practices; parts and bits of his time dedicated to practicing.

His hands fly as he narrates a story to his friends, expressing his emotions as his well known laughter echoes around the room. It is contagious, the kind of laughter where you can’t help but laugh along. His words are filled with barely contained euphoria, warm colours sparking around him as his excitement is conveyed. 

Tanji would compare his energy to a quieter golden retriever, loyal and energetic, his touch a reminder of the happiness around him, and yet, he can be quiet. While he may not be very aware of the others humour, there is no doubt that he keeps their different personalities in mind. He is like a childish father in a sense; proven by his multiple jokes and his cheerfulness when they score a point. He is determined to nail every receive, to support them all. 

Of course, they do not let him do it alone. They are a family, after all.

-

Shirabu’s hands are elegant.

They can move at an alarming speed, whether it be using them to write down notes for studying or for giving yet another sturdy set. His reflexes sharpened like a knife, as the result of his practice. Shirabu is like that; always determined to prove his worth, to do things right. His hands flutter around as he practices, scribble as he writes, the gears in his brain moving and adapting. Tanji admires that; do it quick, do it _right._

His fingers are taped up; his fingers jammed from hours of practice. Shirabu was the only one who got in without a sports scholarship; the title he has is with no doubt _earned_ , through gruelling work and pushing himself to further heights, pushing himself to be able to take _flight._ He is used to it, Tanji guesses. Used to working hard, harder than anyone else. A stubborn kid, that’s what he is. 

Usually, his touch is like cold fire; light and sharp. He is not one to touch others, usually keeping to himself, his mind dancing in his own space, analyzing everything and everyone, the gears in his head always moving, always working. 

Him, as a setter; he is inconspicuous. To other people, he does not matter, he does not command as a leader or make flashy moves like some others. Tanji almost had expected him to be down by it; but he was not. He sees why now; what a fool he had been to assume that Shirabu didn’t matter. There is a reason why he was chosen, after all. 

He is just as brilliant as the others, he is just as worthy of the title as a setter. He is able to adapt, to overcome. It is not as if he cannot be flashy as well, as shown by the couple unexpected moves he pulls. Shirabu is calm; able to move past his mistakes, realize what was wrong, and _surpass_ all expectations. 

_Don’t forget about me,_ he seems to say. _Do not be mistaken. I am here, I am strong, I am_ **_talented_ ** _._

It was definitely the right choice to make accept him onto this team, Tanji thinks, settling back down on the bench with a huff.

-

Kawanishi has long fingers; his hands are large and full of capability. 

His hands hang lazily by his side, relaxed, and yet, always ready to move. A boy like him… it may not seem like he can contribute much from the naked eye, but to Tanji, there has always been something about him that _intrigues_ him. 

A quiet sense of power looms around him. His touch is light, like the fall leaves falling gently around you, brushing against your cold skin, or like poison ivy dancing in your skin, infiltrating your mind. He has always been able to look at the whole of a person.

There is no doubt that Kawanishi is a lazy one; he doesn’t fight battles if he doesn’t know he can win them for sure. But he is always focused, and when he is fighting, he fights with what he’s got. 

He is sarcastic, flat and blunt. But he’s also a part of this family. His _team,_ that he has helped to build with his own two hands, that he has _worked for._ He has spent time and effort, just like everybody else, and that is shown within scrapes on his hands, bruises and tension.

_Coach… I don’t think there’s anyone else I would rather lead with next year,_ Shirabu had said to him, eyes focused on Kawanishi pulling off another block.

_Good_ , Tanji had replied. _I can see why._

-

Goshiki’s hands are always moving.

Whether it be fidgeting, waving, or shaking, Goshiki’s hands are always active. It must be an exit for nervous energy; after all, the buildup for when a match starts is tense, the air vibrating with a mixture of tension and excitement. His hands are large, slightly slimmer than most. Because of that, they’re always more… _present_ than others.

Because of the fact that they are always in action, he tends to accidentally hit someone (if the unfortunate victim is Shirabu, then he might as well be dead), or whack his hand on something. It has become normal; we have become accustomed. To everyone at Shiratorizawa, it is almost amusing, oddly enough.

His touch is like fire and water at the same time; two opposites, dancing around each other and cancelling each other out. They depend on how he’s feeling, but either way is _strong_ , a heavy clap to the back or a nervous accidental slap. The boy is always fidgeting, trying to compete with Ushijima, neverending: _Are his bangs cooler than Ushijima’s hairstyle? Is his cross shot sharper? Is he worthy?_

Worthy… what Goshiki is thinking of is most likely if he is as good as Ushijima. In that case; no. To put it simply, he is not. 

Yet.

Talent comes within many different forms; with practice, with time, with wisdom. And in all three, it is obvious; Ushijima has the upper hand. 

Goshiki is only in his first year. There are many hours left, many months, many years and hardships he will go through. But what I, what _we_ are thinking of; being worthy to become not exactly like him, but become his own version of strength, to perhaps, well, be the next ace. 

And is he worthy of that? Yes. Very much so; his hands will change, new scars will appear, and so will his skills. He will become stronger; that is the one thing they all — Tendou, Reon, Semi, Yamagata, Shirabu, Kawanishi, _Washijou_ , _Ushijima_ — have faith in. They have faith in Goshiki.

_(A team does not consist of a singular person; it is because they are all there together that makes them united. As a family.)_

He has the faith of all of them, the belief that he will grow. 

That is what it truly means to be the ace, after all. 

-

(Lastly…)

(Washijou’s hands are old. They are small and wrinkly, slightly shakier than when he was young. And yet, they are full of power, of strength. They have led Shiratorizawa to success time after time; they hold the memories, his _story_. They sing the tales of his own struggles, chatter about the things he has overcome.)

(They hold the past.

It is because of this, that allows the hands of this new generation of Shiratorizawa to hold the future.)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> if possible, please leave comments and,,, kudos 👉👈


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